Poets Of The Fall

Looking at the road that rises up ahead,
I thought I’d learned a thing or two…
But this is where it’s all made new, and I–
I gotta throw my hands up
‘Cause I can’t go on if I can’t stop.
Look,
The leaves are dead…
The moments gone, there’s no surrender;
Forever now unsaid,
The words that might have warmed December.
It’s all inside your head,
Like fragments of a dream you remember,
So never mind your clever mind, never mind me.
Staring at the ceiling from my bed,
I thought I’d earned a chance or few…